


Beyond Words

by Phoenix_of_Athena



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types
Genre: Elicia barely remembers Maes, F/M, Family Feels, Gen, I'm finally going through and transferring more of my stuff over, Introspection, Originally Posted on FanFiction.Net, Post-Canon, and it weighs on her
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-14
Updated: 2018-01-14
Packaged: 2019-03-04 20:41:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 990
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13372680
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Phoenix_of_Athena/pseuds/Phoenix_of_Athena
Summary: Learning that Ed and Winry were going to be parents had gotten Elysia thinking about her father again.  She had grown up hearing about Maes Hughes: how eccentric he was, how caring; his strong moral code and personal strength. But the words had always seemed empty, coming from people who had actually gotten the chance to know him.





	Beyond Words

**Author's Note:**

> Hmmm. This is about four years old. I still like it well enough.

When Elysia learned that Ed and Winry were going to be parents, she and her mother had celebrated with everyone else. Gracia had taken the parents-to-be aside and given them some warm congratulations and advice, and Elysia had squealed and tackled her two pseudo-siblings in a hug. Their mismatched circle of family and friends were soon all aglow with excitement and optimism, having gathered to hear the news. Ed was ribbing Mustang about starting a family of his own, and Miss Izumi was giving Winry health tips with a teary-eyed smile. But thinking of parents had gotten Elysia thinking of her own, and of the father who she only remembered in vague images.

This was how the twelve-year-old found herself sitting alone in one of Central's parks the day after Ed and Winry came up to share the good news. As far as Elysia knew, said couple was currently still at her house with her mother, and she had taken the opportunity to slip away and give herself time to think.

Currently, Elysia sat with her back to a tree and wondered just what _type_ of person her father had been. She had grown up hearing only good things: how eccentric he was, how caring; his strong moral code and personal strength. But the words had always seemed empty, coming from people who had actually gotten the chance to know him. Words were only just that: words. So, brushing away the words, for once, she struggled to remember more than just his face. She tried and tried, but couldn't recall much beyond wisps of emotion, and the memory of a funeral.

This was how Ed and Winry found her: head tipped back against the tree, her eyes clenched shut against frustrated tears. Her hair was loose; her neat pigtails had been rubbed out of place against the tree bark, and she had tugged off her hair ties without bothering to replace them.

"Elysia?" Winry's gentle voice broke her from her thoughts, and the girl quickly sat up, blinking at them for a moment before rubbing at her reddened eyes with a blush.

"Hi." Elysia's voice was hushed and wobbly, despite trying to steady it.

"Hey," Ed said, sinking down to sit on the ground next to where Winry had crouched in front of her. "What's wrong?"

"No-nothing. It's nothing. I was just trying to think."

"Think about what?" It was Winry now, stroking a hand through Elysia's hair, and the girl couldn't keep her lips from quivering into a pout.

"My Daddy."

Winry and Edward shared a look over her head, as Elysia continued.

"I was just wishing that I got to know him, you know?"

Ed sighed.

"Aw, Elysia, you know your Dad loved you, right? More than anything else. You and your Mom were his world; he never shut up about you two!"

Winry shot him a look, but agreed.

"Ed's right, you know. Mr. Hughes was just so happy to have you."

Looking up at them both, Elysia sniffled.

"That—that's nice. That's nice, but that doesn't _mean_ anything to me!" she burst out, her voice wavering up as she went on, "He loved me, yeah, he was my dad! And—and, from what I can remember, just his hugs and stuff, he was a go—a good dad, but that's just it! I never—I never got to actually know him as a _person_! I just have people telling me that he loved me. I know that! But what I don't know is _him!_ What were his habits, what were his faults? What would _I_ think of him? And what would _he_ think of who _I_ am now?"

As Elysia stared up at the two of them, her thin thread of composure finally snapped, and she gave in entirely to her tears, turning her head and sniffling into Winry's shoulder as the young woman pulled her fully into a hug.

"Well, damn," Edward cursed, and Winry quickly gave him a thump on the head. He sighed, and after rubbing a hand over his bruising section of scalp, put a hand on Elysia's shoulder.

"Hey," he said, "I'm sorry. I had no idea…" he waved his hands about, "that you felt all of _that._ And you know what: you're right. You never had a chance to get to know Hughes, and it's not fucking fair." Winry smacked him again.

"There's nothing any of us humans can do about that," Ed continued, "But how about if I tell you this: your dad always carried around this _huge_ pack of photographs, and he'd show them to absolutely everyone— _everyone—_ that he met. I found it pretty annoying, and Winry found it sweet, but I know that you want to judge for yourself, so let me just tell you this: those pictures were of you and your mom, and he never stopped talking about you. On the phone, in the office, he would always go on and on about how cute you were, and how perfect."

Ed couldn't help the smile on his face, now, as he remembered the man who had always looked out for him and his little brother.

"And I can tell you this," Winry began, joining Ed in describing the Lt. Colonel, now Brigadier General, "He was just about one of the most welcoming people you could meet, but he was also extremely protective…."

Elysia listened as Ed and Winry told her stories about her father, facts and reminiscences, enough to gather a broader view of the man. And, while it would never be the same as knowing him, and never truly be enough, it did make her feel just the smallest bit better. So, the next time she saw her Uncle Roy, or any of their group chosen family members, she would ask them to tell her stories: without bias, if possible, in order to see him for herself, if she could. It almost worked.


End file.
